"This is at the least a serious reconnaissance for the most propitious place for a first French colony, and at the worst . . ." King paused significantly. "I do believe they intend to move very soon on Van Diemen's Land and by landing a small party thereby establish a claim."
With a growing apprehension Kydd heard King out. His sympathy was all with the man who was making positive, vital decisions in total isolation. The stakes were clear: this was the reality of the clash of empires at first hand, the striving of nations that would end in this vast land speaking one language or quite another, an allegiance to Crown or to revolution. It was a situation in which a false move by either could result in misunderstanding, even war.
"Mr Kydd, I have no vessels of force I can send to persuade the French from their course, not even one King's ship. Therefore I must proceed by other means."
He went to his desk and pulled out several large sheets of paper. "These are Commander Flinders's notes of his recent explorations. You see they are not yet made up into a sea chart but they will be adequate for our purposes."
"Sir, ye haven't said—"
"My plan is to dispatch two vessels south—one to the west of Van Diemen's Land and the other to the east. They are to find the French and by any means dissuade them from their intentions."
"Er, dissuade, sir?"
King's eyes went opaque. "You will understand now how pleased I am that at these times there is an officer of renown and discernment at present here in New South Wales. Mr Kydd, it is not within my powers to appoint you to a naval command but as governor I may make you master into a colonial government vessel. Should you accept, you will have my full support in any action you deem necessary upon a meeting with the French. Will you consider serving your country thus?"
"Of course, sir," Kydd said instantly. How else could he respond?
"Thank you, sir. You have no idea how this eases my mind in these very unusual times. Shall we get down to detail?
"Lieutenant Robbins will take the westerly search in Cumberland and yourself the easterly in Suffolk. I apprehend that the most likely places for the French will be Port Dalrymple in the north or somewhere in the Derwent to the south. This is not to discount the possibility that they will consider an initial landing on the large northward islands, therefore I am requiring that Lieutenant Robbins will go to the west, including King Island, while you will take the easterly half. Is this clear?"
"Sir. Th' Suffolk—what sort o' vessel is she?"
King looked apologetic. "The same as Cumberland, an armed schooner, country-built here in Sydney Town. Very handy craft, we use 'em for every task. Forty tons, square sail on fore and main, I should think well suited for your use."
Forty tons! A sixth the size of little Teazer —but then he recalled that Flinders's famous circumnavigation of Van Diemen's Land had been in a like-sized vessel.
"Well, Mr Boyd, let's be about th' storing," Kydd said briskly to the mate. Suffolk was indeed tiny—and so was her crew: just eight seamen and Boyd. Six of the eight were convicts on ticket-of-leave, but to Kydd's eye they seemed diligent and competent enough.
There was little more to be done than store for a three-week voyage; clearly the schooner was to be employed because she was available. Bobbing to a single buoy off the jumble of structures that was the shipyard, she was heaved in to the little jetty and a chain of men set to loading.
It was a commonplace sight, yet this plain-looking craft was shortly to leave the colony for regions of the south that had been unknown to man just six months previously, and on a mission contending for dominance with a foreign power.
Kydd's written orders had just arrived, with what could be gleaned from the maps and observations of explorers down the years: from the Cook of thirty years ago through to the recent discoveries of Flinders. And it would be Thomas Kydd, former wigmaker of Guildford, who would navigate in those same nameless waters.
Lost in reverie he did not notice at first the familiar figure on the jetty. "Nicholas! Ahoy there—step aboard. Ye're very welcome!" Remembering his friend's vow of separation Kydd wondered what Renzi was doing there, then noticed, with concern, the sun-darkened complexion, the worn clothing, the deep lines in his face.
Renzi made his way up the gangplank. "Mr Kydd—Thomas," he said, but did not offer to shake hands. Kydd's heart tightened. Something was wrong. He remembered the doctor's words in Guildford about a tendency to depression after the fever, leading some to suicide.
"Why, Mr Renzi—Nicholas. Is there aught I c'n do for ye?" He kept his tone as neutral as he could.
"There is, sir. I have a request of you," Renzi said awkwardly.
"Name it!"
Renzi looked away quickly, and when he turned back, his face was unnaturally set. He fumbled for words. "Er, you will know that the colonial government sets great store by the securing of a staple, a sure source of income for the colony as would allow it to stand alone."
"Aye, but you would know more o' this, Nicholas," Kydd said warmly, trying to encourage his friend to relax a little.
As if following a set speech Renzi continued, in the same tone, "And being consonant with my diversifying of agrarian interests it occurred to me that an opportunity exists to combine the two with advantage. In fine, it would oblige me exceedingly should I be able to investigate the seal fisheries of Bass Strait at the first hand with a view to an investment."
Kydd was taken by surprise. "Er, is it—" "I will be plain. Do you see your way clear to providing me passage south to learn of the fisheries? You may be assured of any payments involved," he added, with a trace of pathetic defiance.
There was no room in Suffolk for any passenger—and in any case, as far as Kydd knew, he would not be touching at any lawless seal-catching islands. "Dear friend, d' ye understand that there's nothing I'd like more, but m' hands are tied. This is t' be a government voyage o' grave importance an' these concerns must come first."
"I—have heard. All New South Wales knows of what is being planned. It so happens that yours is the only vessel this six weeks that is venturing south," Renzie said coldly, then added, "It might be said, however, that my mission falls not far short of it in importance for the longer term of this colony."
"Nicholas. If it's known as I've taken advantage o' my position as master to offer passage to a friend . . ." He stopped. For some reason of his own Renzi needed desperately to reach the sealers; he had to help and he racked his brain for a solution. "Mr Renzi, it gives me th' greatest pleasure t' offer ye th' post of official interpreter to the Suffolk mission. The wages are, er, a penny a day an' all found." Faultless French would be indispensable when it came to the delicacies of a confrontation—and, damn it, they had to water the vessel, why not at a sealers' island?
"That will not be necessary," Renzi said stiffly. "You may rely upon my duty, should it come to a meeting with the French."
"Ye shall berth in my cabin," Kydd said. It was all of eight feet long and five broad but they could take turns in dossing down. "Shall we have y' baggage?"
Suffolk left Sydney Cove in a fine north-westerly, the schooner leaning to the wind before rounding Pinchgut Island for the run down to the harbour entrance, careful to leave the ugly boiling of white water that was the Sow and Pigs reef well to starboard.
The first deep-sea swell lifted their deck as they shaped course to pass between the Heads, the open ocean spreading in a vast expanse ahead, the vivid blue of the sea and the vaulting white of the cheerful clouds washing away the memory of the dross and dirt of the land.